Once Upon a Time
by nekolcairw
Summary: Natori Shuuichi goes on a quest. / fantasy AU


Someone falls into step beside him.

"Oh, it's you, Lady Hinoe."

She blows smoke rings right in his face. He splutters accordingly.

"Got a death wish?"

The craggy mountain towers in the distance, the cave yawning wide at the top. A ring of smoke wreathes the peak as it has been for the past few weeks. Dragonfire.

"I think my family has one for me," he mutters sullenly.

"Oh, most definitely." She agrees immediately and peers curiously at him. "How haven't you noticed that yet?" He shoots her an incredulous look. She rolls her eyes.

"Cheer up, you pretty boy, you!" She reaches out to ruffle his hair and he's not quick enough to duck out of range, so now his scalp burns. Hinoe's nails are ever impeccable. He rubs his head gingerly.

"You absolute baby," she drawls. "Surely a little peril and near-death experience will do you good."

"You think I'm going to die?" Hinoe squints at him speculatively.

"Hm, I'd say it's a fifty-fifty chance." Natori wonders why he still talks to her. (He sort of knows the answer; it's rather depressing.)

Hinoe sweeps ahead of him like she owns the forest. She probably would if it weren't for Takashi.

"Oh!" She perks up. "It looks like Takashi's coming to say goodbye." Speak of the devil. Well.

"Goodbye," Natori echoes hollowly.

.

The spirit Takashi usually presents himself in the form of a young man, his etherealness pervading in pearlescent silver locks and a vivid green gaze. He's accompanied by his cat (?) as usual. Takashi addresses said cat as 'Sensei.' Natori has yet to figure that one out. By all accounts, it seems as though it should be the other way around.

Before the cat can launch himself at Natori's face and add to the scratches he'd put there last week, Takashi hurries to gather Sensei up in his arms, with an apologetic look to Natori. In many ways, the spirit's demeanor plays to his projected image. Natori's stopped wondering why.

"Not goodbye," Takashi amends Hinoe's statement with a kind smile. "I'm certain we'll see you in one piece yet."

"Gee, thanks." The spirit's laughter is like tinkling bells.

* * *

They make for a strange party now.

Takashi is perched regally atop Natori's horse. He's always liked Mirabelle and she likes him. Hinoe and the cat are digging through his saddlebags as they walk. Natori drags a hand down his face.

"And how are you going to do anything?" Hinoe asks, around a mouthful of his provisions. "All you like to do is play with those paper dolls."

And that's kind of the reason he's here. It's the Natori heir's chance to prove himself. Natori Shuuichi was born with a propensity for magic, the likes of which hadn't been seen since the House of Matoba was at the height of its power.

But nowadays, wielders of magic are few and far between, shunned, and sometimes hunted, for their abilities. Any revitalization of the magical arts is feared and would be especially so within any of the Great Houses again. For that reason, Natori's own ability was kept out of the public's knowledge. And Natori himself kept the fact of his Sight from the rest of his family. Even so, it seems that he's finally been shooed off into the wilderness to be killed under the pretense of honor. Joy.

"You're not going to be killed." Takashi rouses him from his melancholia. Natori eyes him suspiciously.

"Are you clairvoyant now or something?"

"I'm still working on that." These days, Takashi only seems to be getting stronger.

"It's written all over your face," he continues patiently. "I wouldn't believe it's so cruel as that."

"Oh really." Natori can't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Takashi's gaze flickers up to the mountain's peak then back to him.

"We'll see."

* * *

They're at the base of the mountain now. So much for gradual inclines, it rises at a dangerous near ninety degrees.

"I'm going to get Misuzu to lift you up," Hinoe is saying as Takashi loops a protective arm around his mare's neck.

"Not going to accompany me?" Natori asks dryly.

"Someone's got to stay with Mirabelle." Takashi pats her nose as his cat starts in.

"You brat, you should be grateful that we're here at all!" He's fairly imperious. "There were plenty of things that could've eaten you in the past two minutes alone!"

"Why do I get the feeling you're one of them?"

"Well, maybe I am now," the cat growls.

They're interrupted by the arrival of Misuzu.

.

Misuzu's perpetual grin is stretched across his face. He lowers his head so that one of his eyes is more or less level with Natori's head. One of his frogs hops right onto Natori's face. Hinoe and the cat snicker. Takashi delicately picks the amphibian off because he's nice like that.

"Young Natori," Misuzu rumbles, "so you've come to slay the dragon."

"That's the idea." Natori suddenly feels eternally tired. He hefts the family sword. An honor, they said. If honor weighed a ton, then sure.

Misuzu's grin widens and he starts laughing. Natori feels as though he should be more offended. He is about to die after all.

"Well, I wish you luck."

* * *

"You're not a dragon."

"Am I not?"

Tendrils of shadow swirl around the figure, amassing into a serpentine shape. And suddenly Natori's on his back. Obsidian scales catch silver, even in the low light. Natori glimpses needle-sharp teeth and long claws hold him in place now.

The dragon's right eye is missing. It's not the worst thing Natori's seen, but it's still pretty bad. When he reaches up, it flinches back.

"Would you turn back?" The dragon's tail flicks pensively, good eye searching his.

Natori tries again. "Please? My medical supplies aren't proportioned for dragons."

.

Hinoe always says that he's stupidly kindhearted. Natori argues that Takashi is even more so. But then she'll point out that Takashi is powerful enough to deal with the repercussions and Natori can't really disagree with that. Takashi just smiles, ever an enigma.

.

It's the purported heir of the Matobas. He's got a nasty infection where his eye is missing and seemingly, a low tolerance for pain.

"Will you stop squirming?"

Seiji stills for one second before resuming his fidgeting in earnest. Natori suspects he's doing it on purpose at this point.

.

"You're not going to kill me?"

"I don't think that was a possibility in the first place," Natori says sheepishly. He's absolutely rubbish with a sword. Perhaps not the smartest thing to be admitting to a dragon shifter, but somehow he feels it's all right.

.

Natori loops the clean cloth once, twice around the other's head, then neatens the ends as best he can. Seiji inspects his handiwork in a nearby puddle.

"I look like a pirate."

"Pirates are cool," Natori says supportively.

.

Natori wonders why he's all alone way up here, but he doesn't pry. Seiji himself doesn't offer any explanations.

But Natori knows his history. The Matobas were experimenting with darker forms of magic. Extravagant rumors propagated and caused the stigma against magic to grow exponentially. It eventually culminated in an all-out bloody campaign to exterminate magic and those used it all together. It hadn't really worked - did they really think it would? - but it certainly succeeded as a warning. And the House of Matoba, bearing the worst of the attack, had fallen to ruin and all but vanished.

It's rather tragic, in a fateful kind of way. This encounter could have ended with a little less magic in the world. Natori wonders if his family had known. But then again, he supposes that it wouldn't really concern them.

.

Natori starts to gather his things.

"Are you leaving?" The other tries for disaffected, but the question still comes out a bit forlorn, giving Natori pause.

"Actually, I think I can stay awhile."

.

The sky is deepening to indigo and the horizon is streaked with crimson. The moon and stars will rise soon.

"Your friends?"

Natori peers down the cliff face. Takashi is weaving wildflowers into Mirabelle's mane. Hinoe and the cat have somehow procured numerous bottles of drink and were now heavily indulging. Misuzu looms over the group – a larger than life presence. His eye meets Natori's momentarily and his grin stretches ever wider, knowingly. Beside him, Seiji starts slightly.

"Don't worry," Natori assures, "that's one of his friendly smiles."

He doesn't look too convinced.

"I'll introduce you if you'd like." Seiji blinks at him in surprise.

"Um, okay?"

"Come on then," Natori stands, brushing himself off, and holds his hand out.

After a beat, Seiji takes it.

.

It turns out that Seiji knows the mountain that he's been living on better than Natori does. Go figure.

Even so, he doesn't let go of his hand as he carefully leads them down.

It's warm.


End file.
